


ain't thinkin bout you

by leetlebird



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, Slice of Life, Social Media
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 08:19:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8482321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leetlebird/pseuds/leetlebird
Summary: Kent Parson @kvparson: my own sisterKent Parson @kvparson: “the show hasnt even started yet & its already more exciting than any of ur games” really now @parsonjamieThe one where Kent livetweets a Beyonce concert while Bitty's alone in Madison for the summer, most of the team assumes Bitty will be excited about this, and Bitty is NOT excited about this.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i thought this would be so short and easy to write. ha. ha. ha.
> 
> things to be aware of:  
> \- i love kent parson more than i love myself. bitty does NOT like him. i tried to embrace both of these perspectives, but at the end of the day this is more of a pro-kent fic.  
> \- kent doesn’t exactly get that lemonade was made specifically with black women in mind. look for that especially with a formation joke that, while very enthusiastic, definitely overlooks the point of the song (e.g. "come on aces now lets get in formation")  
> \- there’s only a little zimbits in here; it’s more a character study on bitty than a relationship fic  
> \- for most of this story, i’m calling bitty “eric” for symbolic (??) reasons  
> \- you should read kent’s twitter updates from bottom to top, just like on real twitter  
> \- whaddup im jared im 19 and i never fucken learned how to research southern speech patterns

That afternoon had been a blistering ninety degrees, a sidewalk-sizzling high temperature to which Eric hadn’t quite yet adjusted. The first few weeks of a Georgia summer were always like this, memories of Samwell’s milder breezes keeping him firmly planted on the couch as he avoided Madison’s scorching heat, air conditioning blasting. 

Eric had been drifting on the edge of a nap all afternoon, but now that the slightly cooler evening had crept in, he sat up. He’d been alone in the house for a few hours now. Coach was kicking off the summer’s football practices in the traditional way, by taking the team to the homeless shelter the next town over to volunteer. His mom was still on the back porch, where she’d cozied up on their swinging bench with the cookbook Eric had given her as a beginning-of-summer present. 

It was quiet, and Eric was tired of staring at the ceiling. There was nobody around that he could call, and nowhere that he really wanted to be anyway. 

_Untrue_. He wanted to be with his friends. Even more, he wanted to be with his boyfriend. But Jack would be busy until later that night, while Eric had nothing to do but watch the hours slowly pass by as he waited to Skype him. 

He opened up Instagram on his phone.

Nothing too surprising there - Ransom’s unfairly attractive selfies, artsy shots of books and coffee from Nursey, Lardo’s corgi gazing adoringly at the camera, and Whiskey’s gang of bros drinking on some grassy field. 

Eric liked all of them, except for Whiskey’s; caution seemed like a good approach with Whiskey, who had made it pretty clear that he appreciated space and would probably _not_ want to feel like Eric was checking up on him over the summer. Some tadpoles were pricklier than others.

He scrolled halfheartedly through his feed, but none of the other accounts he’d followed were doing it for him; it wasn’t like he was _always_ in the mood to look at recipes, and he was _this_ close to unfollowing the girl who used to post pictures of cute baby animals but had recently started posting an alarming number of moodboards containing country music lyrics. 

When his phone buzzed with a new text, Eric’s heart skipped a beat at the possibility that Jack was, somehow, done early. 

_DUDE you need to look at Parson’s twitter._

Not Jack. That was Nursey, and bless him, he had no idea that his words had effectively triggered a knot of anxiety in Eric’s stomach. 

_Ooh, what is it?_ He texted back, his clenched jaw an almost funny juxtaposition to the false enthusiasm of his response. 

A full minute passed, during which Eric started to open his Twitter app three separate times before closing it in fear. Finally, his phone buzzed again. _It’s on his twitter._

Eric groaned and leaned forward, head between his knees as he tried to breathe out all of his pathetic, anxious tension. It couldn’t be anything too bad, or Nursey wouldn’t be texting him like this, but his pulse was still racing.

What if Parson had gone after Jack somehow? He probably knew how to hit him where it hurt without making it look like he was going any further than a silly, lighthearted rivalry for the fans. And Kent had such a huge Twitter following, any digs at Jack would have thousands of likes and retweets, which would just make them hurt worse.

Eric took a deep breath and opened up Twitter again, then tossed his phone onto the floor as a horrifying thought lodged itself in his mind. What if Parson had _come out?_ That would be huge news, and something Nursey would be more likely to text him about, and Eric didn’t exactly understand why his hands were shaking, but it took another minute of careful breathing for them to stop.

He was being stupid. Kent was probably just posting pictures of his cat again.

When Eric searched up Parson’s account, he felt like he was having an out-of-body experience.

 

 **Kent Parson @kvparson:** gonna be a good night w/  @parsonjamie, is this the kind of thing u guys want me to livetweet or?? 

 

That was… that was a photo of two concert tickets. _Beyonce_ concert tickets. _Formation World Tour_ concert tickets. In New York, to be exact. 

Of course Kent Parson was going to a Beyonce concert with his little sister while Eric, who deserved to see Beyonce more than Kent ever could, was stuck in Georgia all alone. Of course.

 _Oh!!! That’s awesome,_ he texted back to Nursey. 

His life was a cruel joke.

\--

Somehow, forty minutes later, Eric was sweatier and more miserable than ever, despite relocating to the basement. His mother had retreated into the house and hinted that she was going to try out one of the more experimental recipes she’d perused, but he had only smiled vaguely and burrowed further into the couch. This was uncharacteristic enough to cause Suzanne to give him a worried look, but she didn’t say anything about it.

He was grateful for that. _Sorry, Mama, but I’m jealous of my boyfriend’s ex because he gets to go to a Beyonce concert_ wouldn’t be an explanation she would understand or that he would be willing to give. Even if he felt brave enough to tell her that he was gay.

Which he was going to have to do sometime soon. 

He didn’t want to think about that.

In some masochistic impulse -- or as a distraction from coming out anxiety, he didn’t really know -- Eric thumbed open the Twitter app again and watched Parson’s account load up. 

 

 **Kent Parson @kvparson:** my own sister  
**Kent Parson @kvparson:** “the show hasnt even started yet  & its already more exciting than any of ur games” really now @parsonjamie

Eric allowed himself one smile, then cranked up “Partition” on his phone and flopped back down on the couch. Only three hours until he could talk to Jack.

\--

**Kent Parson @kvparson:** its a good song thoguh so i cant blame her  
 **Kent Parson @kvparson:** jamie was dancing so cute to this song, but when i tried to get a video she attacked me and almost ended my career..coulda broke my hand  
 **Kent Parson @kvparson:** the “tell em boy bye” song is gonna be on our postgame locker room kareoke mix okay  @nathantady  
 **Kent Parson @kvparson:** so its a maybe then  RT @nathantady: We voted, and you’re not captain anymore.  
 **Kent Parson @kvparson:** @jeffpeterschick @nathantady @tjwolsky45 can we skate out to this song next season #ComeOnAcesNowLetsGetInFormation  
 **Kent Parson @kvparson:** wow its starting and i think jamie’s gonna cry legit any second now

Eric only knew he’d drifted off because his phone was playing Britney Spears, which hadn't been his aesthetic for a good three years. Grumpy and bleary-eyed, he hit pause and looked over Kent’s new tweets. 

_bro! are you seeing parse’s twitter rn? so up ur alley its unreal!_ This newest text was from Ransom, and Eric typed out a cursory _Haha yeah I know_ without smiling. 

God. It was only a matter of time before the group chat started talking about this, and he really didn’t want to deal with that right now -- it was bad enough that Kent Parson was doing his best to ruin, like, every Beyonce song forever. 

Eric really didn’t want to think about Kent Parson dancing in the Aces locker room every time he listened to “Sorry.”

\--

Suzanne Bittle knocked on the basement door. “Baby, you want to help me with supper? We don’t have to make anything fancy."

Eric was alarmed to realize that no, for once he didn’t even have the emotional energy to cook, but that would scare his mother even more than it scared him, so he gave a quiet nod and struggled to his feet. 

“I haven’t seen much of you today, sugar,” his mother said, waiting for him to join her. “You finding a way to pass the time?” 

“Yes, Mama. What are we making?” He didn’t want to talk about how he was feeling if at all possible. Experiencing the intense change from being surrounded by friends at Samwell to having no one but his parents in Georgia was tough enough to deal with on his own; he didn’t need to worry his mother about it. 

She smiled, warm and soft, and accompanied him up the stairs. “Let’s not get too wild tonight and just stick with pork chops. That alright?” 

“Yeah, that’ll be great.” 

“You can pick the sides, because I just can’t choose from all those leftovers.” For a few brief seconds, she laid a hand on his shoulder; it was awkward contact as they were climbing the stairs together, but still reassuring. 

Eric steadied his breathing and returned her smile. His own didn’t feel quite as natural as it should, but he was already feeling more whole than he had just a minute before. “Alright.” 

\--

The kitchen was hellishly hot, but at least it smelled good -- no one could ever say Eric didn’t know how to bake fabulous rolls.

“Baby, are you all set if I go take a quick shower?” his mother asked, looking worried. He felt like he was seeing that expression on her face more often than not lately. “I feel like I’m baking more than the bread is.” 

Eric shooed her out and checked his rolls one more time. Then, with nothing better to do but feel sorry for himself in the empty kitchen, he checked his phone again. 

**Kent Parson @kvparson:** ladies if you love your man show him u the flyest ;)  
**Kent Parson @kvparson:** lol you guys are so sweet.. its a longshot but if u actually get #LetJamieMeetBey trending it will make her day  
**Kent Parson @kvparson:** this is so much fun  
**Kent Parson @kvparson:** totally forgot about baby boy….. i feel old!!  
**Kent Parson @kvparson:** that said, if beyonce’s PR sees this, i have a 15 yr old sis who wants to meet beyonce so yeah the offers out there  
**Kent Parson @kvparson:** jamie thinks i can get her backstage. cute. 

Eric clenched his jaw and glared at the sunflowers on the kitchen wallpaper until he felt like a normal, breathing person again. 

The rolls were slightly burned. 

\--

He could hear the distant sound of the shower shutting off. “The ‘tell ‘em boy bye’ song,” he muttered furiously, splashing wine on the kitchen counter as he poured. “The _‘tell ‘em boy bye’ song._ ”

#LetJamieMeetBey had over a thousand tweets already. 

Life was unfair. At a fundamental level. 

\--

“Supper was great, darlin’. Just like always.” Eric’s father had, in meticulous fashion, scraped every last scrap of pork off of his plate; not a crumb was left of his roll.

“Thank you, love. And thank your son, too,” Suzanne Bittle said. She smiled at Eric, but there was still something probing, almost sad, in her eyes, something that made Eric look away. 

“Well, then, thank you, son,” his father said, his smile curling good-humoredly around the words as he leaned back just a bit in his chair. “Those rolls were something.” 

“Thank you, sir,” Eric piped up. It was an automatic response, and his attention felt jumbled, absent. “You and the team have a good day?” 

Coach Bittle sighed, but it was a contented one. “I’ll say. Every year there’s one boy who needs his head screwed on straight once the clientele come through, but this time around they’re all as well-behaved as you can believe. Probably too good to last, but it was good to see.” 

Eric’s mother began gathering their empty plates. “Well, I’m glad to hear it. That’s one nice bunch of boys you’ve got on the team this year. They’ll make us all proud.” 

“They always do. And put those down, Mama; you aren’t lifting a finger tonight.” 

“It’s my turn. And don’t you say you’ll do it for me -- you’re ripe to fall asleep where you’re sitting.” 

Eric was still in a mental haze, but he’d followed enough of the conversation to know when it was time for him to chime in. “Ya’ll can both set down; I’ll take care of the washing.” 

“Now don’t you say that, Dicky. I’ve seen you clutching at your phone all night and I know you’ve been so -- so bored these past few weeks without your friends. Go and talk to them, honey.” 

Eric felt himself flush. “No -- Mama, that’s not even--” 

His father seemed a bit lost, but was always willing to try and be part of the parenting team. “Now don’t tell your mother no. Go on and see what they’re up to.” 

There didn’t seem to be much point in arguing, so Eric forced a pained smile on his face and got up. “Thank you, Mama. Coach. Supper was amazing, Mama, thank you. Let me know if you need some help.” 

He hurried out of the kitchen, barely registering the sound of his father clearing the table, or of his father’s amused voice: “My daddy must be rolling in his grave to see his own grandson leaving the table before his mother.” 

“Hush, baby. I’m worried about--” 

\--

Eric didn’t really have friends. That was just how it was; that was what happened when he boarded the plane to Atlanta, when he became Eric and stopped being Bitty.

Having no friends was okay. On a normal day, he could watch Netflix, chat with his mother, toss around a new recipe, text the boys, and Skype Jack. It wasn’t a bad life. 

And now he was setting his phone to send him a notification whenever Kent Parson tweeted; if Kent was going to desecrate Eric’s love for Beyonce and steal all of his dreams, Eric could at least know _exactly_ when another dash of lemon was being added to the wound. 

That probably wasn’t healthy. 

**Kent Parson @kvparson:** i can’t be bothered with grammar im having a lifechanging experience  RT @jeffpeterschick: *too  
**Kent Parson @kvparson:** im sorry if im tweeting to much but all night is such a good song it made me believe in love again. #thanksbeyonce  
**Kent Parson @kvparson:** ok nvm i just saw somebody dab….. why are people like this (just kidding i love you)  
**Kent Parson @kvparson:** IF I LOSE MYSELF I LOSE IT AAAALLLL  
**Kent Parson @kvparson:** ok tbh i just wanted to have fun w/ jamie but beyonce is changing me as a person 

Some time passed; Eric didn’t know how much. The room was dark, only a faint purple sliver of light drifting in through the curtains, and Eric had taken to ignoring the dinging notifications on his phone. 

Instead, he was training his ears for the distinctive sound of a text. It was still too early to expect Jack to be free, but he’d sent out a _911 I’m still in Madison, any news of the outside world?_ to most of the team - avoiding the group chat, since he didn’t want it to turn into a big thing - and they wouldn’t leave him hanging. 

Sure enough -- _Mass. is hot as shit like always._ A moment later, Dex sent another message. _But Georgia must be hot too._

Eric wrapped his arms around his body pillow and felt fully content for the first time all day. He’d been too overheated and self-pitying to enjoy his mother’s company, as much as he normally loved spending time with her, and finally, this just felt… normal. 

_It’s so hot I almost died_ , he texted in response. 

Right as he hit send, his phone buzzed again with an incoming text from Chowder -- _aahhhh dont be lonely!!!!! im trying to teach my sister how 2 make a rhubarb pie in honor of you!_ Chowder immediately added, _but its really hot though so idk if shes enjoying it :/_

Eric almost cried on the spot. He tried to play it cool, though -- _Swawesome! But yeah baking in the summer can be hell if your kitchen doesn’t ventilate too good._

_yeah we are really sweaty but the pie smells sooooo good!_

As a smile of pure love spread across Eric’s face, his phone dinged with another Twitter notification. 

He could do this. 

**Kent Parson @kvparson:** met some great fans tonight #weliketoparty  bit.ly/2f6UIi1  
**Kent Parson @kvparson:** jamie is singing along to naughty girl a little too loud. gotta keep an eye on this one.  
**Kent Parson @kvparson:** ok i cant believe bootylicious came out when i was in 4th grade and here i am in 2016 still groovin. thats real staying power.  
**Kent Parson @kvparson:** and now ppl are filming me. hello.  
**Kent Parson @kvparson:** im trying to sing along to love on top but bey keeps slowing it down??? i swear i know the words.  
**Kent Parson @kvparson:** don’t #LetJamieMeetBey until she comes back in her cowgirl costume from 7th grade halloween  
**Kent Parson @kvparson:** things just took a very country-western turn.  @parsonjamie didnt even bring her cowboy boots #fakefan  
**Kent Parson @kvparson:** thanks buddy  RT @nathantady: dick cheney is a better athlete than you  
**Kent Parson @kvparson:** do i think beyonce is a better athlete than me?? yes.  
**Kent Parson @kvparson:** obligatory ‘i woke up like dis’ tweet  
**Kent Parson @kvparson:** wow i have 2 say you guys are amazing….. if jamie doesnt get 2 meet bey she’d be just as lucky to meet any of the aces fans #LetJamieMeetBey 

_Jealousy is not becoming, jealousy is not becoming,_ Eric told himself, his inner voice sounding alarmingly like the stern tone of his Great Aunt Clarissa when she was delivering one of her infamous moral lectures. 

But _damn_. Loving Beyonce was part of his personal legacy in this world, yet here he was without any chance of going to see the Formation tour. He’d figured out early on that it wouldn’t be possible -- she was only hitting Georgia when he’d be at Samwell, and she’d only be in Massachusetts when he was in Georgia -- but it was hard to accept that when Kent Parson was living it up in New York. 

And, now that he was sitting alone in his room, Eric wondered if he could have managed to get some of the team to meet him at the Massachusetts concert if he’d just asked. 

It was four days too late to wonder about that, though. If he’d had a chance, he’d missed it, and all because he’d been too afraid to ask. 

Sometimes he really hated his stupid insecurity. Or whatever it was that made him cringe at the prospect of asking someone to go out of their way for him. 

His phone buzzed in his hand, and Eric’s breath caught in his throat before he realized it was just an incoming text. If Jack was alerting him that they could Skype earlier than planned, he’d cry with joy. 

But it was Holster. Which was good, too. _Yo Bits, Rans just found out he has a huge interview on the 20th so that weekend probs won’t be good for us to visit._

And that hurt. Saying goodbye to the graduating seniors had been even more painful than Eric had expected. When Ransom and Holster promised to visit him over the summer, he’d barely believed it; now that they were canceling their plans, he couldn’t fight off the sinking feeling in his stomach. 

_Oh!!! That’s so exciting for him. He’s going to be so amazing. And don’t worry about it, we can find another time later in the summer, or maybe when I’m back at Samwell, since the commute will be way easier then anyway!_

_Bits you silly fool. We’re still coming, as long as this weekend isn’t too soon for you to handle us._ A few seconds later, Holster added, _As if we’d let you go the whole summer without baking for us. Pffft._

Bitty smiled and tried not to wonder what his initial reaction suggested about him. _This weekend would be perfect._

\--

Jack had texted him saying that he’d be running fifteen minutes late.

That was fine. Completely fine. It just meant he had no excuse not to check the latest (and hopefully, final) batch of Parson tweets. 

Bitty knew the concert had to be over. The Lord would not test him any further, and if He did, Bitty might have to personally drive up to New York and fight Kent Parson outside of whichever Hollister he bought all his douchey clothes at. 

But Bitty was a pacifist. So the Lord wouldn’t test him like that. 

He just hoped and prayed that the transparent Twitter campaign to get the Parsons backstage had failed. Anything else, he could handle. But if Kent fucking Parson was currently backstage with Beyonce, he was not going to be a very pleasant Skype partner. 

**Kent Parson @kvparson:** and theres no sign that #LetJamieMeetBey is going to happen, but you guys have been fantastic and jamie loves you. GO ACES.  
**Kent Parson @kvparson:** i laughed i cried, i met awesome fans, embarrassed my sis, angered my management, and found like 7 new songs to add to my workout mix  
**Kent Parson @kvparson:** great concert, great night, love you all  
**Kent Parson @kvparson:** JUST KIDDING  
**Kent Parson @kvparson:** 50000 retweets and we’ll totally melt down the rink and splash around in it while freedom plays  
**Kent Parson @kvparson:** my new goal is to make aces fans feel at least half as amped as this crowd is right now  
**Kent Parson @kvparson:** its all good ma i just like to embarrass her  RT @DianeBParson Jamie can sing about anything she wants. I raised an #IndependentWoman ;)  
**Kent Parson @kvparson:** jamie kristine parson whats this i am hearing about skittles and why are u singing so enthusiastically 

Before Bitty could decide whether to feel relieved or just further irritated -- Kent’s fake-likeable social media presence had never been more grating -- his laptop began chiming with the beautiful, wonderful sound of an incoming Skype call. 

“Jack,” he groaned as he accepted the call, “Thank God.” 

Of course, it took a few more seconds for the video to start working, and Bitty had to completely repeat himself once Jack could hear him, but he already felt like he was measurably less tense. 

“Happy to see me?” Jack teased gently, and Bitty couldn’t even roll his eyes because -- yeah. He really, really was. 

“Of course, darlin’,” he said instead, laying on his accent a little thicker than usual just because he knew Jack thought it was sweet. “I’ve had such a slow day. Just… just hanging around, you know.” It would probably be wisest _not_ to mention Kent’s livetweeting event, as he’d probably come across as jealous and petty. Which, yeah, he was. 

Jack was sprawled out on his bed, and Bitty could hardly fathom how huge his boyfriend’s body was. “Sounds nice. Things were a little _too_ busy over here. I’ve been tired all day, so I apologize in advance if I look like I’m about to fall asleep.” 

“You’re fine, babe,” Bitty smiled back. Two seconds passed. “I’ve just been so cranky all day because of what Parson’s doing on Twitter. You seen it?” Well, his resolution to not mention Kent had been admirable. While it lasted. 

“Oh?” Jack seemed genuinely lost. “I didn’t hear about that. What… what was he doing?” 

Lord, and now Bitty was indirectly responsible for Jack experiencing Parse-related anxiety. This was worse than Nursey being annoyingly vague in telling Bitty to check Kent’s Twitter. “Nothing awful, honey. He just went to a Beyonce concert with his sister and was tweeting about it.” 

Jack gave him a knowing look. “And that made you feel…?” 

“Thrilled,” Bitty deadpanned. 

Jack laughed. “You’ve got to hand it to him, though, Bits, he knows how to cash in with PR.” It was disconcerting to see Jack so relaxed, even complimentary, when discussing Kent, but Bitty supposed it wasn’t a _bad_ thing. “He’s always had a good handle on social media.” 

“Yeah, I noticed,” Bitty said, attempting a smile. It felt false and dry. “And it’s so annoying to see the thousands of people liking his tweets and turning them into memes and now they’re going to associate _him_ with Beyonce in their minds when he doesn’t even deserve it...” 

“Hmm.” 

“So yeah, I’m thrilled.” 

Jack grinned, and a truly frightening look of mischief flitted across his face. “I don’t know if this will make you feel better, Bits, but I don’t think Kent has ever been much of a Beyonce fan anyway.” 

“That does _not_ make me feel better, Jack Laure--” 

“In fact, I remember him saying in, like, 2008, that he didn’t get why everyone was so obsessed with her and that he could name ten other pop artists who made more interesting songs.” 

Bitty screamed. 

Unfortunately, he didn’t scream loud enough to miss the sound of his phone dinging with a Twitter notification. 

“Jack,” he murmured, still staring at the notification that Kent Parson had tweeted something, “If Kent’s latest tweet makes me feel angry, jealous, insecure, or even slightly worried about his grasp on the grammar of the English language, you will owe me bigtime.” 

“Me?” Jack laughed, clearly not recognizing how dire this situation was. “Why would I owe you?” 

“You just would,” Bitty said through gritted teeth, and tapped his phone screen. 

**Kent Parson @kvparson:** jamie is literally crying right now btw  
**Kent Parson @kvparson:** umm whoever on bey’s PR team saw my tweets and invited us backstage instead of banning us from future shows? youre amazing. 

“Bits?” 

He looked up. “There is no God.” 

\--

They Skyped for two and a half hours before Bitty took pity on Jack and told him to go to bed; the poor boy was practically drooling on his keyboard. They said goodnight. Jack kissed the screen like the cheeseball he secretly was.

Bitty had settled back on his bedspread and was innocently clipping his toenails when there was a soft knock at his bedroom door. “Come on in,” he called out. 

He’d expected to see his mother, and was more than a little surprised when _both_ of his parents stuck their heads through the doorway. “You almost ready for bed, Eric?” his dad asked. He had always been the stricter of the two when it came to enforcing a regular bedtime, and he hadn’t completely lost his knack for this once Bitty had officially crossed the threshold into adulthood. 

“Yes, sir. In the next half hour, if that’s okay.” 

“Oh, you go to bed whenever you’re ready, Dicky,” his mother said with a good-natured roll of her eyes. “We just wanted to check in. We’ve had a boring couple of days here, but if you want to do anything tomorrow, just let us know and we’d love to.” 

Bitty put on his smile and wished it didn’t feel like a shield. “It’s alright. Anyway, it’s been so hot out lately, I’m fine with just staying in.” 

“Well, I’m headed out to the farmers’ market tomorrow, so if you want to come with me, just say the word,” his father said, gruff but sincere. 

His father never went to the farmers’ market. Never. “That would be great, Coach.” 

They smiled at him, and Bitty’s heart softened. It was hard to go the whole summer without his friends, but his parents cared about him so much. He’d always figured that loneliness was long periods of time without meaningful connections with friends. And his parents -- although they loved him half to death -- were not his friends. 

But he could change his definition of loneliness. 

“Oh, and is it alright that Holster and Ransom want to move up their visit to this weekend? They had some scheduling changes.” 

His mother’s face brightened. “Of course, sweetheart. I can’t wait to see them again. How about after you get back from the market tomorrow you sit down with me and we can decide what to feed these boys of yours?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

They both smiled at him -- his mother offering a bright grin, his father’s more sedate but just as true -- and left him to his bedtime routine. 

Bitty dropped the results of his toenail clipping into the wastebasket, then grabbed his phone as he went to the hallway bathroom to start turning in for the night. 

_hey bro so excited to see u in a few days!_ Ransom texted him as Bitty was exfoliating. 

_I know!! It’ll be great. And btw, great job scoring an interview :)_

_ahh thx. its just for practice i think, still waiting to hear from the hospital i really want._

Bitty brushed his teeth and gargled before reaching for his phone to type out a response, but was cut off by another incoming text from Ransom. _oh dude i just saw the article on buzzfeed abt parson, u see it yet??_

This was fine. He could be an adult about this; he’d had a long time to calm down. _Not yet, but I saw his tweets. It’s about that?_

_kinda. its pics of him with beyonce!! youll love it._

“That seems unlikely,” Bitty muttered under his breath, but he didn’t feel the same bite of angry jealousy that had been plaguing him throughout the day. _I’ll definitely check it out! Maybe after I figure out where I can take you guys for a good time around here :)_

_oh for sure bro!!! <3_

Bitty grinned, said a quick prayer of thanks for the existence of Justin Oluransi, and finished up in the bathroom. 

Once he was settled back on his pillows, Señor Bun tucked snugly under one armpit, Bitty opened up two tabs on his laptop. In the first tab, he searched “fun things to do madison ga”; just because he was familiar with certain parts of Madison didn’t mean he knew everything it had to offer. In the second tab, he searched “kent parson buzzfeed.” 

He sent a few links to the smaller groupchat he just shared with Ransom and Holster: information on a walking tour of the city, a tour of the oldest home in Madison, the webpage of a restaurant that was actually an old traincar, and pictures of J&K Fleas An’Tiques, which he’d always avoided but might enjoy checking out with two huge, ridiculous d-men for company. 

Done with everything he truly needed to do for the night, Bitty sighed and clicked over to the Buzzfeed story. 

Honestly, it was cute. 

There were just two pictures -- one a shot of the Queen herself wearing Parson’s Aces cap, and although Bitty wasn’t a big fan of the logo, he had to admit she looked incredible as always. Kent was striking a pose next to her, one hand propping up his chin in something between “The Thinker” and the cover of a white boy rap album. It worked, somehow. 

The other one was cuter. Kent’s sister was sitting on his shoulders, feet tucked into ridiculously glamorous cowboy boots that someone backstage must have scraped up for her. Bey was crowded in next to them, flexing one bicep playfully for the camera. 

Really, all he could do was smile. 

Once his bedside lamp was turned off and the soft buzzing of conversation between Ransom and Holster on his phone had quieted, Bitty stretched out his legs beneath the thin cover of his blanket and let out a small sigh. 

Madison wasn’t Samwell; it wasn’t even close, but he couldn’t say he was alone. 

He went back and liked all of Kent’s tweets. 

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to bitty and kent for having way more in common than either will ever realize. another shoutout to beyonce's “all night” and its special place on my jackparse endgame au playlist. and my bittyparse playlist. and, in general, its special place in my heart.
> 
> thanks for reading!!!! i change my tumblr url too much to bother linking it here, but check my ao3 profile if you want to follow me on tumblr :)


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